


Just Me, Coffee, & My Big Mouth

by LipstickAndWhiskey (CopperMarigolds)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Mild Language, kind of calling Mary out a little on her bs about “needing space”
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-28
Updated: 2017-04-28
Packaged: 2018-10-24 20:27:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10749207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CopperMarigolds/pseuds/LipstickAndWhiskey
Summary: You can’t leave it alone, so you have to say your piece. All you can do is hope she’ll listen, and that Sam won’t be too upset.





	Just Me, Coffee, & My Big Mouth

(Gif Source:[x](http://subcas.tumblr.com/post/159405632394), [x](http://www.demondetoxmanual.com/post/152781432589))

You know you shouldn’t be here, and yet you are. If Sam knew, you were sure he’d tell you to leave it be. He’d tell you that it ‘doesn’t matter’. Like hell it matters, you think. You knew it mattered to him. To Dean, too. They were your broken little family and if you could do anything to fix it, you would.

That’s why you were in Oregon. Tracking the phone hadn’t been that hard- the tricky part was setting up the meeting in the old diner to look like coincidence. You angled yourself just right, right at the bar where you knew she’d sit and waited. It wasn’t long until she showed, blonde hair curled nicely and clothes not too unlike what you were wearing. You watched her out of the corner of your eye, her eyes tripping over your own figure before she beelined toward you. You act nonchalant, pushing yourself to act natural.

“Hey there- I thought that was you,” she says, a soft hand at your shoulder as she sits on the stool next to you.

You smile, her presence calm and comforting. “Hey to you too- you on the wraith case too?” She nods, smiling lightly as the waitress interrupts to take her order.

“A coffee and a blueberry muffin, please” The waitress looks to you-

“Just a refill,” you ask, lifting your mug as she turns and tops you off.

As soon as she fills Mary’s order, you’re left in silence. You’re not sure how to approach this tactfully, but Mary seems to sense your internal struggle. “How are the boys?”

You smile, thinking about the morning you left the bunker. You’d crashed there for a few days since Dean knew you were in the area. He’d insisted that you say over, conveniently next to Sam’s room- the sneaky bastard. He knew you liked Sam, and was relentless with his teasing and pestering. A few years of torture from him was the main reason you hadn’t accepted their offer of living in the bunker. Living that close to your crush was also a factor. The boys didn’t seem to mind too much, especially with your offer to keep an eye out for Mary, should you cross paths.

“They’re good.” You avoid saying anything more, but from the look on her face you know she can read between the lines. _They miss you. They wish you were there. They’re struggling._ She looks away, deep into her coffee cup as if it’d show her whatever she’s looking for.

“You know,” you begin, hoping that she won’t take this the wrong way, “my mom died hunting.” She looks at you, brow furrowed a little. “Wendigo got her- bled out saving three people before we could get to the hospital. I don’t think any of us would have made it if I hadn’t insisted I go along.” You pick at your nails, belatedly wishing you had clippers to take care of a stray hangnail. “She wanted me to get out of the life. Wanted me to live in a little house with a wraparound porch and a tire swing out front, all wrapped up in a white picket fence. Tried for years to get me to quit- but I didn’t want anything to do with it.”

“You’ve always wanted to hunt?” she asks quietly, eyes intent on you.

“Yeah,” you chuckle lightly. “I guess seeing my mom be this powerful, independent woman free to do and go where she pleased was a good chunk of why.”

“And the other part?”

“Saving people. Knowing that there were monsters out there hurting people? That was like a kick in the teeth each day. Knowing that it was happening and that I could do something about it- I couldn’t live with myself if I wasn’t doing this.”

She hums a little, running a finger over the rim of her mug. “Don’t you just wish that there weren’t any monsters though? Don’t you wish that you could live normally and settle down?”

“No.” Her head snaps to look at you, brows lifted. “Not all monsters are bad, Mary. I have friends who are considered monsters, but they don’t hurt people. Hell, they know that the second they step out of line that I’ll be the first to put them down- but they’re good eggs.” She gives you a dubious look. “They are, Mary.” She nods concedingly. “As for living normally? Yeah, there’s all that relationship stuff I miss. I miss being able to have a committed relationship and coming home to someone. The rest, though? I think I’m too wild for that. I get that itch if I stay somewhere too long,” you chuckle. She cracks a smile at you, small but there all the same.

“Yeah,” you sigh, “I miss my mom. I just- I feel like I gotta tell you that you’re missing an opportunity here.” She quirks a brow, face clueless. “My mom died when I was still a teen, Mary. I just- if she were back again, I’d hope that she were proud of who I’d become. That she’d be my mom again.”

“You’re trying to say something? Because-”

“How much time have you spent with them, Mary?” you interrupt, her mouth slamming shut. “I get it- waking up like Captain friggin’ America, years into the future… it’s not exactly a walk in the park. I get it. I do. I just-” you grunt, frustrated by your inarticulateness. “They don’t expect much from you at all. They’re more than willing to let you do things your way. Willing to follow your lead with the brits. Willing to let you come to them. Please just don’t let your head get in the way of having the boys back. They love you- just… let them.”

* * *

 

You’re back at the bunker a few days later, puttering around the kitchen as you wait for your kettle to boil. You only just came back from the hunt with Mary, leaving her to have a conversation with the boys. The rumble of voices was reassuring, and you hoped that you did the right thing by talking to Mary.

The kettle whistles and you pour the boiling water into your waiting mug, startling a little as large hands land heavily on your shoulders. You turn to see Sam standing there, hands held up placatingly.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” He’s smiling a little shyly, dimples soft in the dim kitchen lighting. His eyes damn near twinkle in delight, sending your heart stuttering in your chest. He looks good; much happier than when you’d last left. “So, Dean and I had a talk with mom.” You hum in mild interest, pretending you aren’t dying to know what happened. “Seems she’s going to be staying around for longer periods of time. She said a few things about spending more time with us and just-” he stops, looking away from you for a moment.

“Just what, Sam?”

“ **I mean, what if there’s something…not natural** going on?”

You squint at him, “What?”

“She just out of the blue decides to change how she’s handling things? That’s just not-”

“Sam,” you begin, grabbing onto his forearm. “I just had a little talk with her- that’s all. No supernatural mumbo jumbo. Just me, coffee, and my big mouth.”

He relaxes under your hold, eyes scrutinous. “So you meet her out in the middle of nowhere… on accident… and talk…”

You grimace, “I may have tracked her phone just a little.”

“Just to talk to her about Dean and I?”

You wobble your head a little to the side, conceding the point. His smile spreads into a grin, your stomach doing somersaults at the look that he’s leveling at you.

“Mom was right about you,” he says before cupping your face in his large hands, his lips on yours. He tastes like spearmint, fresh and bright on your tongue. It’s all you can process before your mind plays catch-up, eagerly clutching at his shirtfront and giving as good as you get. You sink into the softness of his lips, wrapped up in all the overwhelming presence of him. Only what you could assume was moments later did he pull away, leaving you feeling lightheaded and giddy.

“You kissed me,” is all you can say. It’s more awe than matter-of-fact, the way you say it. It’s truth nonetheless, and you can’t help but beam up at him as he looks at you.

“I did,” he grins. “Might have to do it a few thousand times more.”

His words from earlier spark into your mind, hand holding him away as you crane your neck to meet his eyes as he goes in for another kiss. “What was your mom right about?”

He lets out a booming laugh as he scoops you into his solid arms, tan and radiant and so damn happy that it pulls hard at your heart. “Mom told me that you’re one of a kind and that I needed to get my head out of my ass and make a move. I mean, Dean’s been saying it for months, but I never thought you liked me back until she told me how you look at me.”

Heat rises to your cheeks a little. “Oh? And how do I look at you?”

“Like I look at you. Like she looked at dad.”

You take a moment, reveling in the feel of being in his arms and the way he’s looking at you openly. That sparkle in his eyes dancing just for you.

“Thank you for talking to her,” he adds, pecking your lips.

You smile wryly, “Well if it gets me kisses like that, I’d do it again and again happily.”


End file.
